Meet Oliver

Yesterday, I had plans to sleep in. Those plans fell apart quickly when my dad rushed into my bedroom stage-whispering, “Mikeala! What kind of frog is this?” 

Of course, being the little nerd that I am, I groggily sprang out of bed and out the door to see a tiny brown frog perched neatly on the window. After going back inside to research him a bit, I found that he was a spring peeper, and apparently would make a lovely pet. 

Of course, like any sensible  person, I quickly grabbed a plastic jar, made the lid breathable, and coaxed the little guy inside. We named him Oliver. 

Now, here comes the tricky part. Maybe you’re sitting there saying “I did that once when I was a kid and he died.” 

Did you leave him in a jar? 

Did you try to handle him often? 

This, class, is why the small creatures that we try to claim pass so quickly. So gather round, because it’s time for a lesson in how to properly take in your own little frog, lizard, newt, or whatever you may be venturing out to domesticate. 

First, you need a tank. Not just a tiny little tank. A ten gallon tank at the very least, because let’s face it, these guys have been out in the wild. They’re used to space. You’ll also need a screen lid for the top, to ensure oxygen without escape. 

Secondly, you need filling for the bottom. Again, these guys have been out in the wild. You can’t just set them in a glass box and expect them to be happy and healthy. I personally recommend coconut fibers, because these help maintain the moisture levels that critters around these parts will need. 

Thirdly, you need a water treatment. Now, you’re probably sitting there thinking, “water treatment? Can’t I just fill a bowl with water and set it in there?” 

In short, no. 

These animals aren’t used to our water, which has been spiked with chlorine and chlorites. It’s a severe shock to their system. A concentrated reptile water treatment will last you a lifetime, and make sure your new friend HAS a lifetime. 

Next, you’ll need a bowl to put some of this reptile-safe water in. The bowl should be deep enough not to evaporate, and shallow enough that it won’t drown the little guy. 

Lastly, you’ll need a spray bottle. Why, you ask? Because again, they’re used to humidity. You’ll need to spray your tank down with the dechlorinated water twice a day, every day. 

So, what’s our budget looking like? Well, if you go to petsmart (which I did, because I am a wonderful employee and would never, ever shop elsewhere obviously), the prices are as follows. 

10 gallon tank- $13 

Screen lid- $11 

Water treatment- $10 

Coconut fiber filling for the bottom- $8 



Not as cheap as you were expecting, huh? Without tax, just to take care of a tiny little frog, you’re looking at $42, and that’s without a water bowl and spray bottle which, thankfully, I already had. 

Still willing to take in a new addition to the family? Alright. Now that we’ve got the basics, let’s look at how to set it up. While one person could certainly do this alone, backup is always fun, so I enlisted my friend and coworker, Kim. 

First, we broke up the coconut fiber bricks so we could mix half of one with six cups of dechlorinated water.



 You CAN get the coconut fiber already hydrated, but it’s much cheaper for a lot more if you make it yourself. It comes in a pack of three bricks, and half of a brick is more than enough to fill the bottom of your tank. 

After that was done, we let it sit long enough to soak up the water, then spread it around, being sure to break up any clumps. 

Next comes the fun part of traipsing around in the rain to find sticks for him to climb on, since he definitely needs and likes to climb, rocks for him to hide under, and moss to make it feel like home. After adding those, we set the water dish in and filled it up. The finished product looked pretty darn good, if I do say so myself. 



(you’ll notice little Oliver in the bottom right corner in the second picture. He burrows down into his dirt. It’s really quite a sight.) 

So there you have it. For any reptile or amphibian you take in this spring, please remember they have needs, and if those needs aren’t met, you’re hurting rather than loving them. I was lucky. Oliver likes room-temperature conditions. Most frogs, turtles, etc. don’t, and would have required a $15 heat lamp as well. 

All in all, after the initial expense, I’ll be looking at a few dollars a week to buy Oliver some baby crickets for a tasty meal, and not much more than the effort it takes to change his water, spray him down, and clean his tank once a month. A lovely little guy, and well worth it. 

I do hope that if you were considering taking in a new addition to the family from the wild, this is an eye-opener to the money and responsibility involved, a good breakdown of how to do it, and a guide on what you need. Good luck this spring, with whatever your activities may be! 





Bad Days and Betta Fish

One might think that working at a pet store would be a nice, leisurely job. And, one might think that working at a pet store would mean that I get to deal with kind, animal-loving people on a daily basis. In addition, one might think that working at a pet store would be, quite possibly, the best retail job available.

One would be wrong.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I truly love my job. I do get the real animal lovers in there who care about taking care of their pet in the best way possible. My job is filled with small children asking to hold the guinea pigs, and giggling incessantly while the little guy sniffs their hand. It’s a wonderful job, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. However, it’s not all sunshine and hamsters. On occasion, I’ll get a customer who seems to be in a particularly bad mood, or having a particularly bad day, week, century, etc., and they do so enjoy making sure that whoever they’re talking to shares in their ill fate. Yesterday, it seemed I had been “blessed” with one such customer.

I was bagging fish for people when I noticed a short, white-haired elderly lady standing to the side. Thinking that perhaps she had a question, I turned to her with my best customer-service smile and said, “Hi there, can I help you with anything today?”

The response was immediate, and adamant.

“No. I’m looking. Can’t anyone let an old woman look?”

I jumped a bit, not quite prepared for the harsh words, but smiled anyway and told her that of course she was more than welcome to look around. She glared at me, and continued scanning the fish wall, scrutinizing every tank.

Wonderful, I thought. Another rude customer, determined to make everyone else’s life just as miserable as theirs. If you’re so grouchy today, why couldn’t you just stay in? Why come out and be around people when you obviously don’t even want to be?

After about half an hour, I had helped anyone else, and she and I were the only people back there. I couldn’t help but notice that she looked lost and almost a bit sad, so I thought I’d try again.

“Are you looking for anything in particular today?”

She turned to look at me, pausing before answering this time.

“No, I just…” Her eyes narrowed, this time not in an unkind way, but as if she was thinking hard about something, struggling to finish. Suddenly, she shook her head and began to walk away. Confused, I walked after her, wondering if somehow I’d done something.

“Ma’am?” I called after her. She stopped and turned to me again.

“Ma’am, if there’s anything at all I can help you with, I’d be more than happy to. Honestly, you’re the only customer I have right now, and I’ve got all the time in the world to help you.”

She stared at me for awhile longer, before turning down an aisle and walking away. I turned back to the fish, feeling confused and more than a little bewildered. Was it something I said? Was she just having a bad day and determined to let it show? A few moments, later, the sound of tapping broke through my thoughts.

I turned around to see the little old woman holding a two-quart fishbowl, tapping on it insistently, and looking at me with expectation on her face.

“You’re wanting something to go in that fishbowl?”

She nodded, and walked over to the guppies, pointing at them. Now that I understood what she was wanting, I knew how to help. I explained to her that the only thing that could go in a small bowl like that would be a betta fish, and she looked at me with a shrug.

“I.. I don’t know what…” she trailed off again, still seeming to have an oddly hard time, so I showed her the betta fish. Her face lit up as she looked at them. She turned back to me.

“Bright?” she asked hesitantly. “Something bright? I have bad-”

I could tell that she was trying to say vision, but it seemed like everything but vision was coming out of her mouth. The word was jumbled and mixed up, and she grew more and more frustrated with herself before lapsing into silence again. Suddenly, I realized the problem.

This woman had recently recovered from a stroke.

She started to walk away again, and I stopped her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Ma’am, we can find you the brightest, prettiest fish we have, and I’ll get together everything you need to go with it.”

She watched me for a moment before reaching up and patting my hand on her shoulder and nodding. We went back to the fishwall, and she began to point at betta after betta for me to take down so she could inspect him. Finally, she settled on one. She told me that she only had twenty dollars to spend, so we found a starter kit with food and water treatment samples, enough to hold her over for awhile and well within her budget. Feeling rather proud of myself, I walked up to the front and placed them at the register for her, only to see that she was still at the back. I walked back there, asking if she needed anything else. She stared at the ground.

“I… I am sorry… for how I talked to you. I don’t talk to people like that. Really, I don’t. I just… I can’t…” she trailed off again, and I nodded encouragingly as she found her words. “I can’t say things when I try to. I get upset. I wasn’t upset at you.”

My heart broke for this woman. Here, I had automatically assumed the worst of her. I’d thought that she was just another rude customer, just someone else out to make sure that if they were having a bad day, everyone else did too. Before I could tell her that it was completely okay, she had wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug, and I couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Thank you for talking with me today. I don’t have anyone to talk to. That’s why I wanted a pet. It can’t talk back, but I can talk to it. I get so lonely.”

What do you say to that? This woman who I’d already written off was standing in front of me, thanking me for kindness that I had only shown initially out of necessity. I swallowed hard and smiled at her.

“Ma’am,” I said, taking her hand, “You can come talk to me anytime I’m here. My name’s Mikeala, and you just call and see if I’m working, and I’ll be more than happy to talk to you anytime. I might have to be bagging some fish for people in the mean time, but you’re more than welcome to watch and help, and talk with me about anything you like.”

This woman acted like I’d given her the best gift she had been given, and that’s when I realized that for some people, most people even, kindness really is the best gift you can give. Common kindness has become rather uncommon these days, it seems, and the only reason she’d been rude to me was because she expected me to be rude to her. I had to wonder how many people had grown impatient with her when she struggled over her words, how many people had snapped at her in the same manner she’d snapped at me, and I understood. It’s hard to love your neighbor, and it’s especially hard not to judge people, and I had failed. I had judged her after the first words left her mouth, and I couldn’t have been more wrong.

She squeezed my hand and asked me to write down my name for her, which I did. Apparently, I’ll be seeing her again Tuesday.

We grow up hearing in church how wrong it is to judge people, but I’d never really considered what that could mean. Sometimes it doesn’t just mean not assuming that someone fits a certain stereotype because of what they’re wearing. And sometimes, it doesn’t just mean assuming the worst of someone because of a certain decision they’ve made. It can mean being patient and forgiving because you don’t know what’s going on in someone’s life. No one is omniscient except Christ, and we can’t see what’s in their hearts and minds.

I learned yesterday that a little kindness goes a long way, and a little patience can mean the world to a very lovely soul. I’ll have to thank her Tuesday. She taught me a very valuable lesson, and it’s one I’m grateful for.

Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.
~Ephesians 4:32

Hindered by the Church (Part 1)

A few days ago, a very dear friend and I decided to start a college-aged Bible study, and we met for the first time today. For now, it was just her and I. We both brought to the table a few topics we would like to discuss, and ended up settling on one that was on neither of our lists. It’s a heavy one, so brace yourselves…

Is the church a hindrance to our faith, and how are we as Christians and members of “the church” commanded to conduct ourselves, in comparison to how we actually are conducting ourselves?

The conversation began when my friend asked for my testimony, or at least to know where I’m at right now in my walk with the Lord. I’ll be honest- I am struggling, and I told her this. When I was about seven, I said the pre-prepared prayer in church, repeating after the visiting evangelist like a good little girl. But I didn’t really know what my faith was about. I never understood it. As I grew older, I felt like it was shoved down my throat and forced on me, and I grew bitter and resentful towards God. After all, why was I devoting my life to serve a God who I felt had turned his back on me? I had already endured so much by the time I reached high school, and failed so many times. It wasn’t until my junior year of high school that I really began to see who God was.

The youth pastor of the church I was currently at played a clip of a video for us. It was called “Jesus Wants the Rose”, a sermon by Matt Chandler. I’ve pasted the link below, you’ll likely need to copy/paste it into your browser.

In case you don’t want to watch it, I’ll summarize for you. When Matt Chandler was in college, he became friends with a single mother who happened to be slightly promiscuous. He and some friends of his convinced her to come to church with them, because one of the friends from their group would be playing music for the event. She went with them, enjoyed the music, then sat with Matt as the visiting evangelist got up to speak. He began by taking out a beautiful red rose, pointing out its beauty and purity. He then asked that the rose be passed around, so that everyone could smell it, touch it, enjoy it. At this point, he began a horrific explanation of sex, what it is and isn’t, and Matt found himself growing increasingly more upset for the woman sitting beside him, knowing how awful she must feel. The speaker’s great crescendo, the point to his entire message, was to ask for his rose back after it had been passed through a room of hundreds, hold it up, broken and bare of its petals, and shout, “Now who would want this? Who would want this rose now?”

It took a furious Matt Chandler every bit of restraint he had not to stand up and shout back, “JESUS! JESUS WANTS THE ROSE! THAT’S THE WHOLE POINT OF THE GOSPEL!”

At this point, I started to cry. Something, or more accurately, Someone, pierced my heart with that message. My youth pastor, noticing my tears, wrapped up the rest of his message and pulled me aside afterwards to talk with me. I didn’t have to say anything. He must have known the bitterness I’d been struggling with because he looked into my eyes and said, “Mikeala, it isn’t just sexual sin that breaks the rose. It’s any sin. It’s anything that leaves a person broken, and we’re all broken in some way. Jesus still wants the rose.”

There wasn’t some instant change. There wasn’t some immediate breaking point that caused me to say I needed to turn my life over to the Lord right then and there. I still had questions. I still DO have questions. But that message left in me a growing, gnawing desire to truly know the Jesus who wants and loves the broken rose.

A few months ago, I looked up this video again. In the same message, Matt Chandler goes on to say (in a longer version of the clip), that “if this is the game, I don’t want to play it”. If this is how churches are treating people and the way our faith is being handled, he wanted nothing to do with the church. I agreed. At this point in my life, I want little to do with churches, where we spend three months studying how to “deal” with homosexuals, only to come to the conclusion that we should love them anyway.

Did you catch that?

Three months.

Three months… Just to come to the conclusion that we should be nice to people, even if we don’t agree with their sexual orientation. 

That, to me, is sad. We shouldn’t have to spend three months figuring out that we should be nice to people. We, as followers of Christ and practicers of a religion that clearly says God is love, and those who don’t show love don’t know God, shouldn’t have to study to find that we should be nice to people.

However, Matt Chandler goes even further to say that this attitude was and is sinful. We are to love the church as Christ loved the church, even if it’s messy, even if it’s sinful sometimes because it is composed of sinful people.

So, that’s why this says part one. We’ve decided what to talk about, what to work through. The next step is research, studying, praying, and meeting. Working through these issues. Answering why churches act this way, how the church is commanded to act, and how we can work to fix the problems as well as overcome our own bitterness.

As always, input is appreciated, as are prayers. If you’re struggling with this as well, talk about it. Stay updated here, because I’ll be posting as we begin to study and as the Lord reveals things to us.

Much love in Christ,

Mikeala